BK Chronicles: The Quest for the Crystal Jiggies
by Targ Collective
Summary: Full title BanjoKazooie Chronicles: the Quest for the Crystalline Jiggies. Chapter Eleven, Training, is finally up. Training answers this question: What would Banjo and Kazooie do, if forewarned of Gruntilda's possible revival?
1. A Pact is Made

/O-Kaay, here's your disclaimer. I own this fic, but as yet I don't own any locations and/or characters, not a one. Enjoy the kick-around and the earth-shattering aftermath, and remember there's more to come. One final thing - after a looong hiatus, I'm preparing a major re-write of this entire story. I've agonised about this since my last chapter update, and have realised that as it's my fic I can freely and organically rewrite it whenever I choose. Somehow it felt like a betrayal to re-write the past, especially as people have already read many of the chapters and this would oblige them to re-read past plot points. My own congenital inability to face past mistakes is probably a part of this... All the same I am NOT HAPPY with this fic - I feel in many ways it is not what it could be, and mean to fix it. Be advised that it could be some time before I get around to actually doing this, but as of July 2008 there is a notice it is not forgotten about. Please review it when I do - the odd reviews I get are all that keep me going. Fragile ego and all that. -Overmind3, 2008/

**Prologue**

"AIEE! OOH! OUCH! ARRGH!", shrieked Grunty as Banjo, Kazooie, Bottles, Jamjars, Mumbo and Humba passed her head between them at the top of Cauldron Keep during their Sunday kick-around. Oh, the irony.

"Kazooie! On your beak!", called Banjo, swinging Grunty's head around in his backpack.

"I hope you're going to clean that before I have to get back in there! Bone-face sheds in the pack if you do that! BREE!", she cried, bouncing her round to bottles.

"ARRRGH! OOH! OW! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!"

"This is for killing me and zombifying Jingaling!", shouted Bottles, doing some unnecessarily violent keepy-uppy moves. For some reason he hit her eye sockets an awful lot. Her eyes had given up six months ago, but as a witch she could see with the sixth sense. Those eyes could not be closed from this torment – but then again, she'd lost her eyelids over two years ago, rotting beneath a boulder.

"MY EYES! MY SOCKETS! OWOWOW! OW! ARRGH!

"Come on brother, let's see what you can do with that drilling cane of yours!", called Bottles.

"IT'S NOT OVER! I'LL GET YOU BACK! AAAAAIIIEEEEE!"

"A bouncing witch is what you need,  
If you're of any righteous creed!  
Bounce her round for all to see,  
So lets give this witch some MI-SE-RY!"

They all joined in on the last line. They'd done this before, many times, ever since they'd destroyed the Hag 1. They all had some claim in that, Mumbo and Humba for their spells, Bottles and Jamjars for their knowledge and Banjo and Kazooie, of course, for getting the Jiggies required to open Cauldron Keep and defeating Gruntilda Winkybunion.

"Okay, Mumbo! Your turn too-oo-oo GIVE THIS WITCH SOME MISERY!", cried Jamjars, passing the decaying witch around.

"Mumbo have much fun! Zap stick fries Grunty like a barbecue!", yelled Mumbo. ZZAP! ZZAP! He was using his zap stick to keep her in the air. ZZAAAAaaap…  
"Zap stick power run out. Humba must catch Grunty", he cried, using a backhanded swipe Bottles had taught him to propel her through the air.

"OW! ARRGH! OUCH! OWOWOW! EERGH! BLECH!"

"This big heap fun!", said Humba. "Grunty is in much pain! Banjo, bet you can't hit her head up to the ceiling!"

He could.

Later, they all had tea at Bottle's house. There were a few changes in the lounge over the past two years – Banjo's new honey cabinet stood in one corner, and he'd given a cuckoo clock of similar make to the one that was blasted in the his home on Spiral Mountain to Mrs. Bottles. Kazooie's birdseed and birdseed money was secure in one corner, surrounded by proximity eggs of a new kind – these electrocute any intruders, jolting them back a few steps without harming them. Kazooie didn't feel safe leaving 2000 doubloons unguarded.

They spent some time reminiscing over the kick-around and other kick-arounds they had had over the Sundays of the past two years. No-one could deny the first was sweetest, with the remains of the Hag 1 piled at one end of the dome. The conversation soon turned to more serious matters – Mrs. Bottles had been accommodating Banjo and Kazooie for over two years now and was running out of patience with the pair. She'd taken Speccy and Goggles shopping with her; she knew their post-kick-around pattern too well to stay in the house just after they came back.

Banjo and Kazooie, of course, would have returned to Spiral Mountain like a shot… but due to the enormous amount of bad magical residue left at the site of the house in Spiral Mountain, nothing short of the combined power of all ten Jinjo families and their King could cleanse and restore the site. And the Hag 1 had flattened the Grey Jinjo family as it drove through their own house all that time ago.

Only one power could save them after two years rotting in the rubble – the powers of Mumbo and Humba combined. But first, they had to shelve their shamanistic pride.

"Mumbo is best shaman in all Isle 'o Hags! Mumbo did not cower in skull with wimpy magic pool! Mumbo roamed levels and paved way for wimpy washing machine in Electromagnet Chamber at the Industries!"

The Industries he referred to, of course, were the infamous Grunty Industries. Despite their founders' severe reduction, they were still flourishing after all this time, though sales of GruntyHead footballs accounted for 40 per cent of their profits.

"Mumbo know transformation spells!", cried Humba. "Mumbo big heap careless, leaving Humba to do all transformations. Mumbo not right to treat Wumba's Wigwam in Hailfire Peaks as shortcut, either. Humba told Mumbo enough times!"

"Knock it OFF", screeched Kazooie, exasperated with the pair of them.  
"Why do you always go on like this after a kick-around? Is it to make up for forgetting to be nasty to each other while you're having fun? I've got enough nasty for EVERYONE, bone-brain and Indy-Girl!"

She was in a real towering temper now. Banjo, Bottles and Jamjars all backed their chairs away from her slightly. And then a bit more. No-one wanted to be too close to Kazooie when she was in a mood like this, with her feathers bristling. Mumbo and Humba were the focus of her attention, transfixed like mice before an adder's hypnotic gaze. She had that effect on people when she was truly angry.

"Well? Why? If the pair of you don't give up this argument and APOLOGIZE, right NOW, I'll make you regret Jamjars teaching me the Wing Whack…

They had no choice. But they had been keeping their rivalry going for two years, mainly out of stubborn pride and habit, each squashing any thoughts of liking the other right out of existence. They were each scared of the consequences an alliance between them would incur – magic users are required to share spells on acknowledging friendship, and those spells represented lifetimes of study between opposing branches of magic. Kazooie glared at them.

"Mumbo sorry." Then he said something very hard. A thousand ancestors screamed betrayal in his mind.

"Friend, my spells are yours".

Humba faced a similar situation, but to break the ritual here would mean dishonouring Mumbo. Of course, she'd keep her own honour… but how much would it be worth then? She was bound by her own honour to acknowledge his pledge.

"Friend, my spells are yours."

And so a pact to shake the entire Isle 'o Hags was born.

/There you are. The ultimate source of Mumbo's and Humba's rivalry revealed! Exclusive coverage of the team's weekly kick-around! The first ten people to review will be given FREE GruntyHead footballs to spice up those keepy-uppy sessions, so get reviewing, people!

Offer excludes P&P. Subject to availability from Grunty Industries./


	2. Powers Combined

/Disclaimer: No characters, not even the Grey Jinjo family, are mine. I'm guessing there's ten of them because it fits the pattern. The idea of Mumbo and Humba co-operating in precisely this manner for precisely these reasons is mine, but Rare own the characters so obviously any decision they make is final.

There are no new areas. Yet./

**Powers Combined **

Humba stared at Mumbo. Mumbo stared at Humba. What they had just done was surprisingly easy, and the pressure of magical exclusivity was gone from them. They gave each other a sheepish grin.

"Mumbo sorry for poking fun at Humba. Humba good at transformations. Mumbo could never do Daddy-T-Rex spell. T-Rex too big for mighty Mumbo magic…"

"Wumba pool great store of magic. Only small trigger and Glowbo needed to transform. Mumbo have much skill in fieldwork spells beyond what Humba can cast unaided. Mumbo is big heap hero for zapping baddies."

"Well", said Kazooie, "It seems like you two have finally seen sense!"

Everybody breathed out.

"Congratulations on your new era of co-operation!", said Bottles.

"I'd a' had the pair of you doin' drills if this had lasted much longer! Dissention in the ranks deserves no less!", said Jamjars.

"All right, Jamjars, we all hated this friction", said Banjo, "but it's over now. Perhaps you could pave the way for the purification of our old home, Mumbo, Humba?"

"No rivalry like shamanistc rivalry", muttered Bottles. Kazooie heard and gave him a long, hard stare.

"Just thinking aloud!", he added, with just a trace of a nervous giggle. It died beneath her gaze.

"Mumbo and Humba must study long to create mega-powerful spell. Will try and make Glowbo obsolete; fieldwork powers plus magic pool means much magic", said Mumbo.

"Exactly how long?", Kazooie asked Humba, feeling her point with Bottles well made.

"Magic big heap different. Will need much study to perfect mix. Humba thinks a week will see spell done. Grey Jinjo family not get any more dead in a week", she added, firmly.

"That's for sure", muttered Kazooie.

A week passed, and Jinjo Village turned out in full to witness the magical resurrection of their kin. King Jingaling was out in the front, giving the youngest of his kingdom GruntyHead footballs left, right and centre.

The construction of the pool had been the talk of the town over the past week, as Mumbo and Humba each added their own magical plants and herbs into it. Magical bangs, flashes and clouds of steam accompanied each carefully thought out addition to the mix as they added steadily more volatile elements to it, stabilized by just the right amount of certain other ingredients. They had not told anyone the true nature of the process; one misstep could blow a crater in the Isle 'o Hags… or simply make the island a tentacle festooned monstrosity, mutating into things the very Devil has no idea what.

There were two more ingredients to go.

"Marinated Puftup Liver!", called Mumbo clearly across the Village. The liver was the most poisonous part of the blowfish-like Puftup.

He dropped it into the pool, which turned a bright orange, let out a firecracker-like series of bangs and a thick cloud of multicoloured sparks.

"OOOOOOHHHHHHHH…AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH", went the crowd. Mumbo could really do without this…

"Thorn of Eyestalk Cactus", said Humba with some reverence. The Eyestalk Cacti were so magical that anyone foolish enough to sleep close to them might wake in a different shape… or not at all.

With suitable caution, Humba used her tongs to carefully select a thorn of the right size and weight from the bag in her left hand. She then carefully dropped it into the pool.

The world went white. The light was everywhere, everything. There were no shadows, no colours, no shapes. Just light, and a sense of something… rushing… past…

And suddenly contrast snapped back, and everyone was staring into a pool of the purest white light. The rushing sound was still there, contained in the pool. The pool represented the purest magical restorative reserves imaginable. The rest was up to Mumbo.

Mumbo stepped up to the pool and placed the head of his magical zap stick into the magic. In reaction to the contact multicoloured sparks raced up the stick and across Mumbo's arm. Almost immediately he was shrouded in a curtain of magical energy, which crackled as he moved. The onlookers looked on in awe.

"EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON!", chanted Mumbo.

Ten small figures rose out of the rubble around the Grey Jinjo Family House. Bits of rubble and wall fell UP, patching together the rough shape of a Jinjo home.

"EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON!"

The pool of magic shone like a second sun. Little globes of magic spiralled around the site of the spell, ever rebuilding.

"EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON!"

The ten figures, suspended high above their fast-rebuilding home, were visibly growing veins and arteries. Hearts appeared, pumping new life into the corpses they had rotted from.

"EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON!"

The last few pieces of wall slotted into place. The ten figures descended around the base of their home. The light of the pool pulsed brighter and brighter. The light pulsed in the Jinjos too; resurrecting the dead is infinitely more strain than a simple construction spell. Poor Mumbo had only ever resurrected one person at a time before, and even with Humba's pool he was feeling the strain.

"EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON!"

The figures were visibly more alive, beneath the shrouding light it could be seen that their skin was regrowing. Only a few more patches of bare raw Jinjo were left, the skin waxing, waning, waxing, waning, but always waxing more than it waned. Humba, regardless of personal danger, darted forward to steady Mumbo should he fall.

"EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, DEEJOWMON! EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKUM, EEKUM-BOKU – OOBELWAKA!", cried Mumbo in triumph, then fainted dead away in Humba's arms.

The ten resurrected Jinjos opened their eyes as one, and gave the characteristic, ear-splitting Jinjo… "WHEEEE!".

As one, the crowd clapped their hands to their heads.

/Whew! Humba seems awfully fond of Mumbo all of a sudden. This should develop nicely. Did you like the mind's eye-candy? Do you have cause to sue the Greys for internal ear damage? Stand by for some Jinjo magic; Jinjo power will have a different 'feel' to it. Read and review! Go! Tell me what you think! More to follow soon (perhaps before the day is out!)/


	3. The Jinjo King Marches

/I told you you'd get your first taste of Jinjo power this chapter. As ever, I own no characters or areas… Yet. This is turning out longer than I thought, so the cleansing of Spiral Mountain is next chapter. Jinjo shadow-power was my idea, SO THERE./

**The Jinjo King Marches **

"WHEEEE! WHEEEE! WHEEEE!

WHEEEE! WHEEEE! WHEEEE!

WHEEEE! WHEEEE! WHEEEE! WHEEEE!", cried the Grey Jinjo family.

"Ooohhh… Arrghhh… Owowowow!", went the crowd, holding their ears. Jubilant Jinjos made for ear-splitting noises.

"Good to have you back, Greys", bellowed Jingaling through the din. Everyone quietened down; he was going to make a speech.

"Thanks to the valiant efforts of Mumbo and Humba", said Jingaling, getting into the spirit of the thing, "who put their differences behind them in a display of unity and strength…"

A cheer went up among the watchers. Everyone was there; the entire mole family, all sixty Jinjos and The Crew (Banjo, Kazooie and the rest), even characters such as Chief Bloatazin and Leaky the empty bucket made an appearance. Once word had spread of the massive spell to be cast in Jinjo Village, no-one wanted to miss it. Someone in the back yelped as Weldar singed his backside.

"Sorry", said Weldar.

"…the entire Grey Jinjo family has been resurrected at once this day", continued Jingaling self-importantly, glaring at Weldar. If a giant sentient welding torch could be said to blush, Weldar did.

"I hereby proclaim that this day, the Third of ShadowMonth in the Jinjo calendar, shall forever be known as All Shaman's Day, in honour of our valiant healers and heroes!"

More cheers.

"However, I am slightly concerned by the pool", continued Jingaling.

"If anyone were to fall into it, who can tell what will happen? Humba, I realize that you are concerned with your companion Mumbo, but really, something must be done…"

Just then a storm of giggling erupted from the pool. A positive army of Glowbos, attracted by the heady magical discharge, had teleported into the pool. Lapping up the magical mixture, they started flashing through all of the colours of the rainbow. Then there was none left, and they faded away to wherever they came from. Humba gently pulled Mumbo's zap stick from his hand, muttered "eekum bokum deejowmon" a few times and the crater in the ground where the pool was healed up. She sagged. Her magical stamina was nothing like Mumbo's; handling that much magic without a pool to draw from fatigued her considerably.

"Mumbo unconscious and Humba big heap tired. Humba will take Mumbo to wigwam; after rest Humba will see to Mumbo's magical drain."

Mumbo had slipped into a mild coma, in fact, but with Humba's careful, tender care, he came out of it within the week with no ill effects.

Mrs. Bottles strode up to the king, determination in her step.

"Your Highness, now that the Greys are back, perhaps you could get round to restoring Spiral Mountain?"

It wasn't a question. Mrs Bottles did like Banjo and Kazooie, and they were doubly heroes of the Isle 'o Hags, but living with someone and liking someone are quite different things. She wanted her Sunday evenings back, and no-one was going to stop her, least of all a King.

Jingaling seemed to sense this, and he took the only sensible option.

"Yes, Mrs. Bottles, I will do this for my most loyal subject."

Spiral Mountain had seemed blasted when Grunty first invaded, but her influence on the land had had two long years to grow. The ground was barren, the Gruntlings faster to respawn, Banjo's old house now glowed in the dark with an evil magic. Roysten had been healed from Bottle's futile attempts to find some un-burnt fish by Mumbo years back, only to grow a third eye in the lake by the Mountain. It throbbed, feeling like it would rupture. He lived a truly miserable life.

"The place could really do with some fixing up, Banjo", muttered Kazooie dejectedly. "The whole mountain looks like it's rotting away."

"Kazooie, you give us some covering fire", commanded King Jingaling. "We need to make it to the source of this evil. Banjo, you use your Taxi Pack on as many Jinjos as you can. If you can fit a Styracosaurus in there, a few Jinjo families should be no issue."

Banjo and Kazooie nodded. Kazooie muttered, "Glad I jumped in Dingpot before we started, even if my feathers _are_ black."

"The rest of you shall come with me", continued the king. He held his arms out to either side, and orbs of shadow appeared in his hands. Once the remaining Jinjos were gathered closely around him, he completed the spell. An electrical-looking Shadow orb surrounded them, and they floated in the air. Banjo and Kazooie gaped.

"What? Oh, this", muttered the Jinjo King, nodding at the barrier.

"All Jinjos are masters of Shadow magic, though we usually don't use these powers outside times of war. But, we are at war against a landscape like this. Look, I can see you're just about to kick up a fuss about the type of magic I'm using here. Shadow magic, Light magic, Light magic, Shadow magic, all are parts of one whole, like… Like Jiggies in a jigsaw puzzle." He smiled, pleased with the metaphor. "Magic is not evil, only intent. I could discuss the philosophy of magic all day with you, but… This corrupted land must be healed. Banjo, Taxi Pack. Kazooie, covering fire." And with that he made his way to their old home.

Banjo and Kazooie trailed after him.

/Well, well, well. Things are getting exciting, aren't they? Jingaling seems to have hidden depths. He still likes his kickball, though… more on that later. Promise! In other news, Grunty Industries are now sold out of GruntyHead footballs, and my contacts have not had any luck tracing a batch. As yet. Due to a production line fault at the Industries, rumoured to be caused by Gruntilda's old crow from the multiplayer levels getting stuck in one of the vents, there are serious doubts in the Industries about capability to fill demand. Sorry, guys!

Next chapter will see the band battling through Spiral Mountain to reach Banjo's house. This isn't the Spiral Mountain you remember, guys, as I have made abundantly clear, so the question is still in doubt. Lots of doubt. I'll keep you guessing as to just how much, but it'd be safe to expect some ACTION! It's what I write best, after all./


	4. Spiral Mountain Unhexed

/Three chapters in one day… That's got to be a record, surely! The whole Jinjo linking thing and People of Logic, People of Shadow etc. business is mine. MINE! MY intellectual property, so get off it, you dirty no-good plagiarist!;) The Jinjos, Banjo, Kazooie, Jingaling, Banjo's house, Spiral mountain and all charted areas and peoples of the Isle 'o Hags are Rare's (formerly Rareware's) property. The whole rotting mountain thing is my twisted mind at work…/

**Spiral Mountain Unhexed**

The journey down to Banjo's house was hellish. The ground was rotting beneath their feet, making it difficult to find a firm footing. One side of Spiral Mountain collapsed in a torrent of rancid earth. The flight pad on top of the mountain landed in the mess and shattered.

"There goes our flyby", muttered Kazooie, shielding her beak against the stench with a wing.

"Perhaps we could sneak past those Gruntlings down there?"

A mass of Gruntlings seethed like maggots between them and the house. "RRAAGGHH!", roared a Gruntling. They'd been spotted!

"Perhaps not", she finished lamely.

"RRAAGGHH!" "RRAAGGHH!" "RRAAGGHH!"

In seconds the party had been surrounded by a tide of Gruntlings.

"I – don't – remember – there – being – so – many – Gruntlings – here!", squawked Kazooie between spitting out Grenade Eggs.

"There weren't!", replied Banjo, rolling into the foes to spare the Jinjos he carried from his Pack Whack.

"These are no ordinary Gruntlings!", he added.

Indeed they were not. They were twice as big as they should have been, and each took four times the normal effort to kill. The battle was furious, with King Jingaling shooting threads of darkness from his shield, and the Jinjos with him throwing energy balls of their respective colours in all directions. The party slowly made its way towards Banjo's old home, cutting a swathe through the Gruntlings. Jingaling upped the stakes with large balls of darkness that sucked the Gruntlings out of existence on contact. One of them managed to get close enough to Banjo to try and pull his backpack off; he frantically tried to claw swipe behind himself as he was dragged into the mass.

"I'VE GOT YOU, BANJO!", screeched Kazooie, pecking furiously.

The Gruntling ended up with a sharp beak driven through its skull. Without sparing breath to complain about the foul taste, Kazooie took to the air. (Jingaling had spawned a Flight Pad for the purpose a moment before). From the air, the battle seemed more manageable. Furiously spitting Grenade Eggs into the Gruntling mass, Kazooie cut swathe after swathe through the Gruntlings with her Beak Bomb attack.

The party could have wiped out the Gruntlings, except for one small thing: they reappeared in those gathering white lights that Grunty used so extensively before her defeat. Every enemy had a spell attached to it, to allow it to respawn. The time and expense behind that spell really did not bear thinking about; Grunty had wanted Banjo and Kazooie dead, all right. The party had defeated five times the Gruntlings' number by the time they reached Banjo's old home. It had a feeling of wrongness about it, even more than the rest of the decaying place.

King Jingaling extended the barrier around them to form a wide area, leaving the topmost part of the Shadow dome unguarded. The Gruntlings howled in animal fury, battering at the barrier. They had made it to the house, the source of this corruption. Banjo quickly let the Jinjos out of his backpack.

Kazooie dived for the opening to fortify their defences with her Proximity Eggs, and nearly fell out of the air with shock. The horizon was black with Gruntydactyls, and they were racing for the opening. If they caught her they would tear her to shreds. Well, she'd won races with longer odds for smaller stakes before. She tried not to remember how many times it had taken her to beat Canary Mary in Cloud Cuckooland.

King Jingaling had spotted them too. Like everyone beneath the barrier, he silently urged Kazooie to make it before the Gruntydactyls did. He'd cut her off if he had to, to save his people.

Kazooie Beak Bombed straight for the opening, smashing through the only Gruntydactyl that could match her speed. Jingaling closed the opening at once. Kazooie immediately got to work with her Proximity Eggs, enclosing them in a circular minefield.

"No-one is to approach the edge of the barrier", cried Kazooie, "those eggs are armed!"

"My shield can withstand this assault indefinitely. We must cleanse this place; a return journey through this madness could well be lethal. Assume positions for the Full Circle", instructed Jingaling.

The Jinjo families took their places, forming circles which in turn formed one larger circle around their king.

"Greys! People of Logic, give me your power!"

The Grey Jinjos shone grey. A thread of grey energy connected them to Jingaling.

"Blacks! People of Shadow, give me your power!"

The Black Jinjos shone with a dark light. A thread of blackness connected them to their king.

And so he cycled on through all the Jinjo families, finishing with the White Jinjo.

"White Jinjo… Great Sage of Order. Give me your power!"

The last Jinjo shone a brilliant white, connecting a beam of light to rival the Pool (as people had taken to calling it) to his King.

"You honour me with your power!", cried the King, drawing on it and adding his own to the link. A multi-hued aura shone from him.

"Let evil be gone!"

A beam of multi-hued magic hit Banjo's old home, one made of many, eleven shades of Shadow – the King's own energy shone gold. Outside the protective dome, the army thinned out. The Gruntlings and Gruntydactyls lost their unnatural size, and their numbers reduced. A flood of green rushed over the barren ground; the grass was growing again! When it hit the ruined form of Spiral Mountain, the landslide slid up, and the Flight Pad was restored. Within moments the mountain was better than new, and the foes gone, yet still the beam shone forth; a canker of darkness still made its home where Banjo and Kazooie once lived. It fought the Jinjos' power, a losing battle. Within moments it was scoured away. Jingaling let the beam wink out.

Kazooie let out one shrill note. The entire minefield exploded at once, leaving a circle of scorched earth. The remnants of the Jinjos' power still did its work; almost instantly it was as though that earth had been covered with grass for years.

Banjo's house stood before them, shining a brilliant blue. A tear leaked out of Kazooie's eye; this moment, after the ravening hordes, was almost unreal.

Bearing this in mind, perhaps in is understandable that her and Banjo's first thought was to give Jingaling a crushing hug.

/Ah… Cuddles! Well folks, what did you think? Bet you didn't know Jinjos could do THAT now, did ya? Next chapter will see an old character in need of rescue from the last place anyone would ever look… a place of my own creation! I'll leave you guessing who! So, what are your thoughts? Epic Battle too Epic or too tame? Read and review!

P.S, Roysten's little eye problem was sorted out when the wave of power caught him. He's also a fitter, younger looking goldfish now! No more scale rot for that little fella, not with Jingaling ruling the Isle 'o Hags… Read and review! Go on, I dare ya./


	5. Cloud Island 237

/This chapter sees one of the Banjo series' most irritating loose ends tied up.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from this chapter except the Cloud Islands and Stasis Pod./

**Cloud Island 237**

"Um, okay, guys, it was a pleasure, really!", said Jingaling. He really didn't feel comfortable in such situations, especially with all ten Jinjo families looking the other way.

"I sensed something important when the evil was banished! Once, there were three people living here. Yourself, Kazooie and… Tooty."

Mention of Tooty was the only thing that could have dampened Banjo's mood, and he and Kazooie sadly stepped back a pace. She had been missing for about four years now. He had enjoyed two wondrous, idyllic weeks with her, Kazooie and Bottles, spinning tales of how he and Kazooie had collected all 100 Jiggies in Grunty's old lair. Then she had gone skipping out to get some honey, and never skipped back. Banjo had posted Missing Person notices everywhere, but as the years went by he gave up hope of ever seeing her again. Now there was only one he knew of, if it was still there after two years – the notice on the side of the giant milk carton in the giant trash can in Cloud Cuckooland.

"Well", continued the Jinjo King, "there was such a strong bond of love here – a privilege to witness, really – that I could feel the resonance from its source! Tooty lives, Banjo! Tooty lives!"

"Do you have any idea where she is?" asked Banjo eagerly.

"Only a general idea. Somewhere very high, and very small. That's all I caught. But if you will come to the Palace with me, we shall be able to check the charts and maps in my possession, and we'll have a more exact idea then."

So the Jinjo King and the Jinjo families returned to Jinjo Village. The Jinjos dispersed into the crowd around where the Pool was to tell a tale of the purification to any who would listen. Jingaling headed straight for the Palace; Banjo and Kazooie quickly told the mole family what was happening before they followed.

"This is wonderful news!", Mrs. Bottles said. "Listen, dear, we're going to see Tooty again!"

Inside the palace, Jingaling had spread maps and charts all over a table by his throne. He normally went for the minimalist philosophy of design, with a simple stairs – leading – to – throne arrangement, but since the 9 Realms of the Isle 'o Hags had been opened to each other he had needed to pay more attention to affairs of State.

"If I am correct", mused Jingaling, "she is on one of the smaller Cloud Islands. The Cloud Islands, as I'm sure you know, are a barren section to the far East of Cloud Cuckooland. In my vision, I saw an island of a particular shape… I think it was 237", he added, pointing towards an Island whose shape on the chart seemed no different to a thousand others, "but I cannot be sure. Here is the chart of the Island's drift over the past week."

He gestured to a chart showing the island's movements, and its predicted course over the next couple of days.

"Kazooie, can you read charts? This is at an altitude of roughly 1,500 feet, as mentioned here", – he gestured towards part of the map again – "And 0,0 on this chart is the top of Spiral Mountain."

"Are you implying I can't get to a specific coordinate at a given altitude?"

She puffed out her chest, displaying her wings.

"I'm a BREEGULL, Jingaling, and more than capable of finding my way in the air!"

And so it came to pass that the dynamic duo were 1,500 feet up in the air, closing on Cloud Island 137. It was a very small island – roughly circular, about four metres in diameter – and the only thing on the island was a small glass pod. Tooty was suspended inside, with one paw covered in honey.

"I don't know what happened to her before she was put in that thing", said Kazooie, "but I'd bet all my birdseed money on that thing being a stasis pod, like Grunty used to use on her prisoners!"

Once Grunty had been defeated the first time, Banjo and Kazooie had explored her lair to the full. There were entire rooms filled with prisoners held in stasis, and Banjo and Kazooie had freed them all before they finally settled down.

"I'd be inclined to agree, Kazooie. What is Tooty doing up here in a stasis pod, though? Come on, let's bust her out of there…"

And so Banjo reached down to the keypad at the bottom of the pod, and tapped certain buttons in a certain order. The glass hissed open.

"-RRGGHHH! Oh! Banjo! Where did that nasty Gruntydactyl go? And… what happened? You look like you've aged! Is this one of Grunty's spells?"

"You've been in there for nearly four years, Tooty", said Banjo, tears leaking out of his eyes.

"Four years!", he continued. "I'd nearly given up hope of finding you! Then two years ago Grunty got free, and we had to defeat her… again! She shot a spell at our home, blasting it, and it festered, turning Spiral Mountain into an evil place. King Jingaling only restored the mountain today, after Humba and Mumbo resurrected the Grey Jinjo Family… How did you get in there? You just went out to get some honey – which I see you did", he added with a grin, gesturing to her honey-covered paw.

It turned out that a Gruntydactyl of immense proportions had been swooping around Spiral Mountain, keeping an eye out for Tooty in case Grunty should fail in her mission to extract Tooty's beauty. When Tooty ventured out on her own, arm in a honeycomb up to the elbow, the Dactyl struck, taking Tooty to the Island for when her beauty was to be extracted. Her last memory before Banjo opened the seal was of a Gruntydactyl closing the door.

"We have a kick-around with Grunty's head every Sunday afternoon, and still her evil remains", murmured Banjo. "You've lost the last four years, and there is nothing we can do. Humba and Mumbo can restore the dead, Jingaling and the Jinjos are Shadow battle mages of the finest order, with the power to cleanse the land… And Kazooie and myself are twice over the heroes of the Isle 'o Hags, the only ones who fought Grunty face-to-face and survived. And there is nothing any of us can do."

"Come on Banjo, Tooty", said Kazooie, "let's go home".

It was then that the flaw in their rescue operation hit them. Kazooie could only carry one of them at a time.

"Kazooie, take Tooty and come back for me", said Banjo.

"SQUAWK!"

It was Canary Mary!

"King Jingaling sent me", said Mary, "he seemed to think you'd need another pair of wings!"

"Kazooie, you take Tooty. She's more likely to catch something." He steeled himself; Canary Mary was as grubby as she ever was.

"Mary, follow Kazooie's lead. It's time to go home."

Kazooie started flying back. Mary followed in a cloud of dirty feathers.

/Okay, don't expect further updates for about a week, anything you get during this period will be a bonus.

Grunty's fallout has been pretty much cleared up now. It's almost time to start the Quest! Just a little more build-up first…/


	6. Idyll

/This nice little scene is mine! ALL MINE! PLAGIARISTS WILL DIE! Thank you! Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters within, except for the names (Panakus and Fergus) and personalities of the Grey Jinjo Family's eldest and youngest. I do NOT own the Jinjos. All locations in this chapter are property of Rare. Jinjo culture is shaping up nicely; you do not have permission to steal my ideas unless you ask, show me a sample of what you plan to do with it, and I agree. I guard my intellectual property jealously./

**Idyll**

Tooty had settled in to life at Spiral Mountain quite well over the past few weeks. Banjo and Kazooie were with her in the living room, which now housed the honey cabinet, birdseed and birdseed money (still guarded by proximity eggs) as well as the cuckoo clock which was restored along with everything else on Spiral Mountain. Tooty had wanted to hear about their adventures.

"So who was the boss in Mayaham Temple, then?", she asked innocently.

"Well, Targitzan, the Dizzy Despotic Totem Pole God, or Mighty Mayan God of Target Shooting, depending on who you ask", explained Kazooie. Tooty was the only person apart from Banjo who she never insulted or was sharp with.

"Jamjars had to teach Banjo the ancient art of Bird Handling before he'd let us into his temple. Well, that's what Targitzan called it – the move was actually the Breegull Blaster. Banjo?"

Banjo demonstrated the move.

"Oh… but don't you feel nervous with Banjo gripping your neck?"

"That's nothing", replied Kazooie, "You should see the Breegull Bash. NO, Banjo, that wasn't your cue to demonstrate. Remember what we said, once Grunty had been defeated? Never again? Put me down now. Anyway, getting back to the point here. What with Banjo using me like a machine-gun we stormed through the place – there were plenty of eggs about; even some golden eggs at one point – "

"Those give you rapid fire golden eggs for a limited time", explained Banjo.

"Yes, Banjo, I'm telling it thank you", said Kazooie, "and we had to collect these priceless relic thingies that Targitzan has set his Moggies to guard."

"Those were the basic minions in Targitzan's temple, like the Gruntlings in the Isle 'o Hags", explained Banjo.

"YES, Banjo", said Kazooie. "Once we'd collected ten of the darn things, Targitzan opened his Slightly Sacred Chamber. There was a Jiggy on the floor. So we grabbed the thing, stocked up on ammo – there were a few egg nests on the ground – and got the last ten."

"Then Targitzan opened his Really sacred Chamber for us", continued Banjo. Kazooie glared – she really did enjoy telling these stories – but she'd really have to learn to share them, just as she shared the battles.

"At first we thought it'd be a doddle – the Jiggy was on the floor just like in the Slightly Sacred Chamber – but then the music changed."

"That always means trouble…", sighed Kazooie.

"Targitzan's multi-segmented body just rose up out of the floor!", continued Banjo. "I suppose gods can do that sort of thing, but it was still a little freaky to watch."

"WAY freaky", added Kazooie"

"He had four segments, each with targets on, and a top segment. I had to circle around him, dodging the darts he fired from his mouths –"

"The top three segments had dart-firing mouths like the big statues we told you about", explained Kazooie.

"Not counting the top segment, but we'll get to that", continued Banjo. "I had to circle round, sidestepping his fire, trying to get Kazooie into a position where her eggs would hit the targets on his segments. And EVERY time we blasted a segment out…"

"A Moggy spawned.", finished Kazooie.

"And for each segment we had to face another moggy; for example, for the first we faced one…"

"The second, we faced two", chipped in Kazooie.

"The third, we faced three", said Banjo.

"And the fourth, you faced four at once?" asked Tooty, agape.

"Well, we're good at what we do", said Banjo, "so dealing with them was no real hassle. When we'd defeated those last four, only his top segment was left and he activated his Sacred Self Destruct (tm)."

"Quitter", said Kazooie in disgusted tones.

"So he exploded, shooting four darts into the walls of the room."

"He didn't even aim them!" said Kazooie.

"Then it was a simple matter to pick up the Jiggy from the floor. And so fell Targitzan to the Bear and Bird!", finished Banjo.

"I wish I could have seen it…" said Tooty.

"You always say that. It's dangerous out there! Leave it to the experts until you're bigger!", said Kazooie.

In Jinjo Village, meanwhile, the Grey Jinjo family had some serious questions for the Jinjo King regarding their family heirloom.

"Listen", said the eldest of the Greys, Panakus, "we have reason to believe that you took our family heirloom from the rubble of our home. It's quite logical."

"All the other Jinjos had dispersed", continues Fergus, the youngest, "and so their pieces of their heirlooms would have been as well."

"And Master Jiggywiggy does not allow anyone into his temple unless they make the effort to find at least one Jiggy", said Panakus. "All the worlds were closed at that point. None of the Jiggies within them could have been collected."

"Which leaves OUR Jiggy", finished Fergus. "Banjo and Kazooie saved the Isle 'o Hags – twice no less! – but we have every right to know where our heirloom is. We think you gave it to him when you opened Wooded Hollow."

"Ha!", said Jingaling, "You are as sharp-witted as ever, despite two years six feet under. Yes, you are quite right. Sorry – you were gone, forever I thought, and I so badlywanted a reminder of the times before I was raised to the throne. Then Banjo and Kazooie appeared, and a greater need called. I'm sorry; it should have been buried with you."

"We understand", said Panakus, "we just wanted to know where it was. Thank you, your majesty. Logic and reason guide your path", he finished in the ritual benediction of the Grey clan. The family's power shone and gave meaning to their words. The Jinjo King would spot flaws in logic with great ease that day.

"May my power protect you always", said the King. A golden glow filled him as he gave meaning to the words; the Grey Jinjofamily would have astonishingly good luck that day.

The ritual parting done, the Greys returned to their meditations in their home.

Back in Banjo's house Kazooie was telling Tooty about Mr. Patch.

"It was pretty clear that banana-face wanted us dead", said Kazooie. "He left us in the big top with a possessed inflatable dinosaur!"

"You though it was a seat, if I recall correctly, Kazooie", said Banjo.

"Yes, well… anyway, this one was very similar to Lord Fak, except we were in the air instead of the water."

"I felt so guilty for slowing you down that fight", said Banjo.

"That wasn't your fault, Banjo, Conga wouldn't let me in without you! Anyway, Mr. Patch got all huffy –"

"Literally", added Banjo.

"And blew himself up to a massive size. And we shot a patch out, so he got angry and spawned a flying pad along with evil boxing gloves. So we had to do some bombing runs with grenade eggs, we'd never had so much fun!", continued Kazooie. "He was covered in patches head to foot, and we had to puncture them all."

"We had to land more than once to restock our ammo, and what with him coughing up beach balls the way you or I would phlegm and the rubber boxing gloves punching out of the ground, I can tell you it wasn't a pleasant experience!", added Banjo.

"What with my expert flying, though", boasted Kazooie,"once we were in the air he didn't stand a chance. Before too long he was punctured in so many places, he deflated entirely, just like a balloon you forget to tie. Apparently, a Jiggy must have slipped inside him because one fell from where he was in the air before he vanished altogether."

An owl hooted outside.

"Look at that!", said Banjo. "It's time for bed; we've talked right into the evening!"

He and Kazooie led her gently to bed, loving smiles firmly on their faces. They tucked her in and closed the door behind them.

Banjo and Kazooie gave each other a warm glance of satisfaction. Life had become an idyll they hoped would never end.

/It would be nice if things could stay like this forever. But then it would be a very short fic, and I'd have to change the title and answer a deluge of questions about the Crystal Jiggies. Next chapter… Next chapter shall give you Grunty's POV. Why? You'll see! 'Till next time, fans!

P.S, this really is the last update today. MAYBE there will be more in the week. No promises.../


	7. Kickball

/The plot development and GruntyBall rules are mine. All else is Rare's. Enjoy a day in the life of Gruntilda Winkybunion… With a twist./

**Kickball**

Grunty fumed in Cauldron Keep's top dome. Her life had become an utter misery; quite apart from having no body to cast spells with, quite apart from having her life punctuated by the dreaded Sunday kick-around, quite apart from being kept in a jolly sack covered in multicoloured patches – even apart from that dratted bird and bear spoiling her schemes twice! – she was furious about what she had sensed a few short weeks ago.

As a witch, she could sense magic being wielded in large quantities. She knew what the first spell was – a working of Mumbo, shaman of the Skullhead tribe, and Humba of the Indians. She had been working on the rivalry between the two clans for thousands of years; she could remember too clearly, for all the years between then and now, what had happened when their ancestors had worked together. They had been a great force of good and embarked on regular crusades against the followers of the Void, from which Grunty drew her powers. She had sold her soul for immortality during that period; at last she questioned whether it was worth the pain.

Then came the second spell, which left her rocking back and forth in dismay in this foul sack. She knew what it meant; the Grey Jinjo Family walked the earth again, and the Jinjos would now be able to form a Full Circle. She had hoped the evil in Spiral Mountain would eventually contaminate the entire world. Her only hope for obtaining a new body lay in waiting long centuries for the tide to start creeping over Cauldron Keep and feeding her from the suffering. Now that hope was gone. She could not die, that was beyond her, and her skull was in a very battered state. She could at least imagine death, wish for death. But she could not hope for it. Once she had dreamed of turning the world into what Spiral Mountain had become. She had had a plan, a marvellous dream, a fantastic hope. Now she did not dare to plan, dream and hope. She did not dare to think of what may have been; the contrast with what was would, she sensed, push her over the edge.

A hand gripped the sack.

"Go away", snapped Grunty, "it's Wednesday today, not Sunday!"

Well, there was an image to keep to. Bedraggled she may be, but it would take more than futility to soften her tongue.

"Aren't you lucky, Grunty!", said Banjo. "You're getting to come out of the sack twice this week! The kickball tournament between the Moles and the Jinjos is starting today, and you're the ball! They've developed special rules for the event – they call them the GruntyBall Rules! Personally", he added, grinning, "I agree with them. GruntyBall does indeed rule."

"When I get out of this mess you're going to be a dead bear", snarled Grunty.

"Knock it off", said Banjo, "you know that's not going to happen. C'mon, Kazooie, let's get this party started!"

Oh, no. He had the bird with him!

"This is going to be a BLAST", trilled the idiot loud-mouth. "You are gonna be SORE after today!"

The bear was hateful, but this breegull was positively nasty! She seemed to take a joy in Grunty's suffering that went beyond all reason. That she deserved it did nothing for Grunty's mood, and her temper got the better of her. Yes, focus on that, too much time spent in idle speculation is bad for a head. That is what she told herself.

"Not as sore as you'll be before I let you die!" screeched Grunty.

"Same old Grunty", said Banjo playfully, "never says die. Top marks for determination, but after two years I'd say that's a tad unlikely."

His playful attitude somehow was worse than open anger. She had lost all power of fear over these two! This was a truly wretched situation, after thousands of years following the Void!

The bear and bird had been carrying her all the time during this, and so they were already coming out of the Jinjo Village silo. A clearing had been made in the centre of the village, and a circular enclosure in the style of a colosseum had been erected. Banjo and Kazooie entered the building and opened a door on the interior of the stadium. They strode proudly out into the sunlight with their wriggling burden.

"We give you", they said, loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the stadium, "Gruntilda Winkybunion!"

A storm of laughter erupted. Grunty had threatened to sue when she let her full name slip; now how could she? She let out an ear-splitting shriek only to be met by more laughter. Grimly she realised she was playing right into their hands and settled for glaring at the audience with her empty sockets.

Banjo and Kazooie set Grunty down on the kick-off point marked in the centre of the stadium and made their way to the Royal Box – King Jingaling had invited them, Tooty,Mumbo, Humba and the entire mole family to share the commentator's box with him. He was the commentator, you see. He really was very nice for a king.

"Now", called Jingaling with his magically amplified voice, "for those of you who have been under a rock this past week…"

The crowd (mainly Jinjos, but with the occasional visitor – Jolly the frog, for example, had managed to get some time off from running his inn, and Salty Joe needed little excuse to avoid custom at his chip stand) laughed again.

"…the GruntyBall Rules are as follows. One: only two people, due to the risk of injury, are permitted to play on each team. That means two Moles and two Jinjos, and no more. Two: This is NOT a freestyle or 'anything goes' match. This means that the Jinjo participants may not use their Shadow abilities, and the Moles cannot play subterraneously. NO DIGGING! Three, and pay attention, as this is the most important rule. Points are given to each team based on the amount of force they exert on Grunty's head. This is why only four players may play simultaneously; the risk of injury is too great with a larger team."

"There will be three rounds, with a total time of twenty seconds per round. The Grey Jinjo Family will be playing this match in honour of their extraordinary resurrection at the hands of Mumbo Jumbo and Humba Wumba…"

Deafening cheers. Mumbo and Humba bowed to the crowd. More cheers.

"…And they have selected Panakus, the eldest, and Fergus, the youngest, to represent them. The Moles have chosen two brothers, great heroes who taught Banjo and Kazooie everything they know… Of course, I refer to the legendary moles Bottles and Janjars!"

The crowd went wild. This as turning out better than they'd hoped: Jingaling really knew how to play to the crowd.

"Let the game commence!"

Grunty had been listening with mounting terror throughout all of this. Rule Three! All four competitors charged for her.

WHACK! And she was flying through the air. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"And Bottles and Jamjars go in on an immediate offensive! Look at that teamwork, they've obviously been playing for years!"

WHACK! THUD! And she was skidding to a halt.

"Panakus is closing… And yes! He's there!"

"JINJO PUNCH!" cried Panakus, striking Grunty into the air. The viewers at home saw her head curve upwards from one side of the stadium to the other.

"Fergus is on target after that stunning pass from Panakus! Come on, time is running out!"

THWUNK! WHACKWHACKWHACK… Iwillnotscream, Iwillnotscream, I'll rob the beggars of the satisfaction…

"Time up! The moles win that round by six contacts to five!"

Jingaling turned to Banjo and Kazooie worriedly.

"You told me she was quite loud! You showed me the recordings!" he said. Mumbo and Humba had had the sense to cease amplifying the Jinjo King's voice when they saw his expression.

"She's normally quite vocal. I suppose she's just trying to hold on to some of her pride now it's a televised event", said Banjo.

"I told you that you should have let us rough her up beforehand!", added Kazooie. Jingaling sighed.

Grunty had been placed back on the spot again. Jingaling readied himself for the next round.

"Round Two begins… NOW!"

"THWACK! CRUNCH! BASH! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

"Panakus is showing us some spectacular moves today! Look at him go!"

"AARGH! OW! BLECH!"

Jingaling nodded in satisfaction.

THWACK! THWACK! THWUNK-THWUNK-THWUNK…CRUNCH!

"Yes, the Jinjo team are taking it away!

"MOLE CRUNCH!" cried Bottles and Jamjars, each aiming for Grunty. They collided head to head. The crowd gasped.

"Round over – the Moles are out! The Jinjos win by default while our shamans revive their fallen foes!"

Mumbo and Humba started chanting softly. Humba had learned much from Mumbo these past weeks; they found, to their surprise, that their different magics each amplified the other. The rest was a matter of practice. Jamjars and Bottles were revived in moments.

"Great going, brother", they said simultaneously with dirty looks.

"Round threeof the match ladies and gentlemen! Begin…NOW!"

THWACK! THWACK! BASH-THWUNK-THWUNK-THWUNK…

"AIEE! ARRGH! OWOWOW! URK!"

"They're bouncing her back and forth! Panakus… Fergus… Bottles… Jamjars…"

THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-THWACK-BASH-CRUNCH-BASH-SKIIIiiidddd…

"OOH! OW! ARRGH! AIEEE! OWOWOWOW! ARRGHHH!"

"And time up, ladies and gentlemen! The final round…"

The crowd hushed.

"Was a draw!", finished Jingaling. "Thank you for coming, everyone! For souvenirs of the game, come to the entrance of my Palace!"

And so the game ended. What a hellish day Grunty had had; she couldn't even keep herself from screaming, she mused as she rested in that foul sack back in Cauldron Keep. She could not sleep, aching as she was, and there was nothing to stay awake for. Nothing to live for.

"You can keep your stinking immortality!" she screamed into the night.

Just on the edge of hearing, she heard the demon laughing softly across the gulf that separates the planes. It meant her to hear.

She heard footsteps.

"GO AWAY!", she screeched.

"Itsss me, missstressss. Don't worry, clever Klungo hasss a plan."

"Klungo?"

/And the plot thickens, you lucky lucky people. I very nearly didn't have time to finish this chapter today. Read and Review/


	8. Grunty Restored

/Okay, everything below the Keep is mine though the minions themselves are all Rare's intellectual property. The Gruntling Messenger – indeed, any concept of Gruntling hierarchy as placed at any point in this fic – is mine. This applies to any other hierarchy I implement, and this statement covers the WHOLE fic. Uh, I guess that covers everything in this chapter. This chapter I do dedicate to NintendoNut1 in honour of the outstanding Amethyst Shamans fic, now complete. Not for any particular reason, no hidden message, I just felt like dedicating a chapter to somebody. Read… and review. Or else./

**Grunty Restored**

"How did you get here?", asked Grunty

"That dumb bear and bird and that idiot Jingaling have the Keep under heavy guard between them".

This was quite true; she had caught a glimpse or two through the folds of her undignified prison on the way to the kickball game, and there were always sentries. Just in case.

"Hur, hur, hur", laughed Klungo, gently tipping Grunty's head out of the brightly coloured sack, "hur, hur, hur! Ssssstupid bear and bird not know about main entransssse! Clever Klungo came through basssement!"

"I thought you'd given up opposing that dumb bird and bear when Mrs. Klungo dumped you for someone less bruised. Last I heard you were in the games industry,"

So they still only knew about the secret exit? The fools! Only the topmost tower of Cauldron Keep was visible from the Quagmire – the basement where the B.O.B was constructed, the barracks, the control room and all of the other facilities (along with enough dried and tinned goods to see out a four-year siege) were still presumably intact, and her forces awaiting her command. The Keep was practically a self-contained city!

"Ssssstupid programmersss made fun of poor Klungo. They called Klungo ssstupid! Klungo got his own back though – ssstupid programmersss from Rareware work for Microsssoft now!"

"Ha!", cried Grunty. "You're almost as evil as me! So what is your plan? We have tonight and three days. Then they will want a kick-around with my head; before then I want them dead!"

"Klungo thought Misssstresss had stopped rhyming".

"That was to please my sisters before they were flattened", said Grunty. "It's become a habit. That rhyme was too good to miss, I'm sure you'll agree; now what is your plan? Tell me!"

"That wassss terrible. Klungo will take DNA from ssskull. Then Klungo will clone new body for missstressss. Finally Klungo will transfer life essssence from Misssstresss' skull to missstresss' new body."

"A clone of me will still be ugly", said Grunty. Her ultimate ambition was to become the most beautiful being alive.

"Missstressss' life esssence will not inhabit another body. Missstresss mussst sssettle for sssskin and blood before missstresss can chassse rainbowssss."

"Very well", replied Grunty, "how long will this take? The bear and bird must be beaten; they have kicked my head too long!"

"Klungo will take missstressss to basssement. Missstressss will have new body in an hour."

An hour! And then she could resume her evil plots. To think that the day of her greatest humiliation would also be the day of her restoration. She dared to hope again.

Klungo held her out in plain view with both hands as he would a trophy. He would make it plain to the denizens of the lower floors of the keep that HE restored their mistress. They reached the bottom of the turret, and Klungo paused; the secret staircase had, of course, closed up again.

"Purple with yellow ssspotssss!", said Klungo. The staircase at the entrance opened up like a flower unfolding, if there are flowers so dark and loathsome. A putrid stench wafted from the depths.

"Breathe it in, Klungo", said Grunty. "The smell of home!" If she'd had eyelids she'd have closed them; she settled for just relishing the moment.

They descended into the darksome depths. The Gruntlings on guard snapped to attention; one of them, wearing the speeding broom of a messenger on its left breast, sped through the passages with the news of Grunty's arrival. They descended lower and lower, through the guest bedrooms, below the Gruntydactyls' eyries, beneath the Great Hall of the keep, and always to the sound of Gruntlings saluting.

They finally descended into the storerooms and down into Klungo's lab.

Klungo donned his much-stained white cloak for the look of the thing and set Grunty on a worktable. He took a pair of tongs and wrenched one of her teeth out.

"YAAARRRGGH!"

"Ssssorry, Missstressss. Klungo can't grow missstressss a new body without a ssssample!"

He then put the tooth into a tank arrangement; a pipe connected the top of the tank the tooth was in to the one next to it. The tank the tooth was in was filled with water; the other was not, holding only a cushion.

The next hour, watching her new body growing slowly from her tooth, was torture for Grunty. Slowly the body took shape; when it was almost ready, Klungo assembled her second-best suit of clothes on a stool. Her best set had, of course, been burnt to cinders with the HAG1. Grunty vaguely wondered if she'd really been as fat four years ago as the body that was forming.

Once the body was done, the water drained from the tank and Klungo placed her head on the cushion in the empty tank. Finally he set a screen around the apparatus so that Grunty could dress in privacy.

If anyone had been behind the screen, they would have seen the tanks running with lighting. A green glow formed around Grunty's head. It was sucked up the pipe and settled into her new body.

Grunty stood up from where her new body had settled on the floor and coughed the last of the fluid from her new lungs, and then clothed herself.

Her hands rose to stomach height as though she were holding a ball. She concentrated and a murky green ball of light, the power of the Void, coalesced betwixt her hands.

Gruntilda Winkybunion had risen again.

/Which is where things get interesting, of course. Enjoy! Read and review! Tell me your innermost thoughts and emotions about this fic in the reviews page, and do so now/


	9. The Gathering Storm

/A truly aptly named chapter. Contains scenes of torture and sadistic measures to maintain discipline in Grunty's troops… You'll see. All characters are Rare's. As it stands, most – in fact all – of Cauldron Keep below Klungo's third battle arena is mine. All the things the characters do, are mine. I do NOT own any characters in this particular chapter. Though I'm not sure if the Dodgem Dome enemies are really called Gremlins./

**The Gathering Storm**

At last! After two long years of powerlessness she had the power to make her foes tremble. First she must inspect her keep; then she would have to dig out her emerald-eyed statue; while only doll-sized she would need it to blight the land. She could see to the construction of a larger model once a workforce had been gathered. But first she must impress her power on Klungo. She blasted the divider around the tanks with her spell. It flashed green for an instant and then simply ceased to exist.

"Missstresssss looks well. Doessss misssstressss like her new body?"

"Very much! But I have a score to settle. See my power; know my mettle!"

The murky green glow filled Grunty again and she shot a bar of the Void's power at Klungo. A green glow enveloped him.

"Two years! Two years I have suffered the Sunday kick-around. Two years I spent in that foul sack. Two years I spent imprisoned in that foul sack. And where were you Klungo? WHERE WERE YOU? MAKING STUPID GAMES!"

It was not possible to pay Klungo back for two years' worth of kick-arounds, but Grunty meant to try. Using her spell she CRASH! smashed him against the ceiling, CRASH! smashed him against the floor, CRASH! against the ceiling, CRASH! against the floor, CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!…

It took some time for her temper to wear down. Once it had she flung Klungo into a corner disgustedly. Good. That should cure him of any ludicrous expectations of gratitude. Now she must motivate the fool, give him hope. She addressed the battered, whimpering hulk in the corner.

"You may yet redeem yourself, Klungo. The HAG1 was destroyed in the last confrontation between me and that idiot bird and bear. You must build it anew."

"Yessss misssstresssss", said Klungo, "anything. Klungo will be good thissss time. Promissssse."

Excellent! The fool was hers now. He would remain loyal now that she had broken him.

"How long? I need that machine now!"

"Three weekssss, missstressss. One week to sssstand. Two weeksssss to walk. Three weekssss to build."

Of course – Klungo's injuries. Those needed seeing to. The fool could hardly labour in a sickbed. Grunty reached out to the Void's power once more.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!", cried Klungo.

He felt as though a thousand knives were tearing through his flesh. But he could feel bones knitting… skin closing… bruises fading. And in the pain a dark, warm glow of energy.

"How long?", repeated Grunty.

"One week, misssstresssss", said Klungo with a silly grin.

"Good."

Now she could attend to her Keep. She decided to pick upher statue en route; the storerooms were just above the Lab, after all. She made her way up the stairs.

She strode through the public storerooms to a door marked 'Witches Only'. The shrivelled forms of Gruntlings who chose to ignore the sign littered the ground by the door. Grunty chose such reminders of discipline carefully; each Gruntling was missing a hand – the same hand that had been laid upon the doorknob. The dark enchantments on the door would hold the Gruntling in place as it bled to death; those same enchantments vaporised the offending hand. Grunty paid neither enchantments or corpses any mind as she stepped through the dead with a crunching sound and laid her hand on the doorknob. She laid her hand on the door.

Most of the room's contents were junk – old, failed potion formulas, dud spells, Furnace Fun and Tower of Tragedy questions that the stupid bear and bird had somehow managed to answer. There were a few treasured possessions though – shots of the bird and bear hemmed in during the three-on-one Dodgem Dome challenge while a Gremlin collected Twinklies – if only the bear and bird had stayed hemmed in – and her Brentilda dartboard.

Brentilda was the white sheep of the family and had chosen the path of a fairy godmother – of all things! – over that of a witch, as any decent Winkybunion should. She had helped the bear and bird by telling them personal things about Grunty – for example, that she wore purple underwear with yellow spots, knowledge needed for her Furnace Fun – and had mysteriously disappeared after her first defeat, no doubt as soon as she got wind of Mingella and Blobbelda, Grunty's other sisters, looking for her with revenge in mind. No time for that now; she sought her statue.

Ah! There it was, right under her failed beautification potion. She bent down and grabbed it.

The floor was too cluttered to test her statue there; she had to choose a bare patch of wall.

The emerald eyes of the statue glowed, and twin lances of bright green light struck the wall. A patch of stone grew pitted and diseased-looking; the taint spread as she maintained the beam.

Tooty had been rescued – she had seen her at the kickball game – so resuming her original plan of stealing her beauty was not an option. There were two ways to become the most beautiful being alive. The first was to become more beautiful yourself; that, she had tried and failed at.

The second was to corrupt the world. She cackled insanely as she made her way into the upper levels of the Keep. Klungo, a floor below, cowered at the sound. Grunty was clearly utterly mad.

Sunday came around again, and the gang made its way to the top of Cauldron Keep. The brightly coloured sack lay discarded on the floor.

As one they bolted for Jinjo Village. The Jinjo King must be told of this disaster.

/I was on FORM when I wrote this little beauty. Read, review, and understand why this fic has a Teen rating all of a sudden. Because Grunty is now a psychopath (well, more of a psychopath, anyway). Updated for spelling/grammatical errors./


	10. The Hunt

/Quite a bit in this chapter is original, actually. The annual morris dancing competition is mine, as are the locations Gurkrist Hill and the Witches' Study and Training Room in Cauldron Keep. Egliztorb is my Stony; however, the Stony concept is Rareware's. Zzinifor the Zubba is my Zubba, again the Zubba concept is Rareware's. Um, Rare's, I mean. Clyde the giant Gecko is a totally OC and Flint, Old King Coal's son is my creation, though the race of coalpeople was Rare's idea. Finally, the entire Council and all associated rituals are mine. And the Jinjo life cycle, and the politics of the Isle o' Hags, mustn't forget that now, must we?

Beyond that everything else is Rare's./

**The Hunt**

In Jinjo Village the Jinjos were holding their annual morris dancing competition against the Moggies of Mayahem Temple. Months of hard practice had gone into this, and the CLACK! CLACK! CLACK! of connecting sticks filled the air. Hecklers and hawkers filled the crowd, selling goods from all over the Isle o' Hags - pumice stones from Hailfire Peaks, quality grain grown by Bovina in Mayaham Temple, shock-absorbant jelly and ultra-rare Floatus Floatium eggs from Cloud Cuckooland.

And in a clear area in the centre of the Village the Jinjos danced against the Moggies. So much practice had gone into looking like complete berks and having a really good time as they did that everyone was really annoyed when Banjo, Kazooie, Bottles, Jamjars, Mumbo and Humba dashed straight through the middle of the display on a beeline to the palace of the Jinjo King.

"Hey, "Get outta here", "Great going - JERKS!", said crowd, hecklers, Moggies and Jinjos alike as they disappeared into the palace.

King Jingaling was holding court as they barged in, but when he saw the looks on their faces he tactfully cut short Targitzan's delegation from Mayahem Temple in the midst of their report on Minjo activity.

"Most sorry, Officer Ungopaz, Private Egliztorb, but an important matter has just come up."

The look he shot Banjo and the gang promised trouble if it proved to be anything but.

"Igliz torab byr un byrd!" said Egliztorb, a Stony.

"I am afraid so, Egliztorb. I suggest you enjoy the morris dancing while you can; I am sure the Moggies will appreciate your support", said Jingaling, seeing them out. As soon as the door had closed he strode back to his throne, a very serious look on his face. "That was the Mayaham delegation, keeping me up to date on the information from their... plants... in Minjo Fortress."

The Minjos were identical to the Jinjos and there was some speculation as to whether they had even been the same species once, becoming so different over time.

Jingaling knew better. The Minjos had been created by Grunty one thousand years ago to oppose the Jinjos and blacken their reputation by performing evil deeds in their name. It had backfired. The Jinjo King of the time, a Jinjo named Altrupinloch (Al-Troop-In-Loch) had seized upon the Minjos as the perfect cover for his Black Ops division, and had obtained unrivalled political power in the Isle 'o Hags. The Jinjos enjoyed that influence to this day.

"This had better be important", the Jinjo King continued, "a misstep with the Minjos could result in open war."

"How's this for important, Dingaling?" asked Kazooie irreverantly. "Grunty's head has been stolen!"

King Jingaling turned pale. This could mean disaster - what if some mad fool thought to revive her? He would have to question all the guards who had been on Keep duty this past week. What manner of theif could evade them? They had kept watch over the ground entrance in the Quagmire and the dome on the top of the keep would deflect any air assault.

He called the Mayahem delegation in; they should be present for this. It would undoubtedly cut short their own information gathering exercises, a small bonus. Ha! Even in a crisis such as this he was steeped deeply in these political currents. Sometimes the way politics ruled his life as he in turn ruled the Jinjos scared him. Even a King was not free; indeed, the responsibilities of being supreme ruler often left Jingaling wishing for the days before he was raised to the throne.

Before long everyone was in the throne room, and the Jinjo King spoke.

"I am about to call a Council. If everyone could gather on the dais, please?"

Everyone climbed onto the dais; Humba nearly fell off and Mumbo steadied her. The dais was never really meant to hold nine people.

King Jingaling used his power and a golden glow filled the dais. The Jinjos and Moggies paused in their morris dancing as a pillar of golden light shot from the domed top of the Palace roof.

Inside the palace, all those on the dais were dissolving into little blobs of golden light. Then they were away, flying over the land, a golden glow not constrained by the tiresome laws of physics or matter.

As energy they flew, streaking for Gurkrist Hill, chosen as a meeting point centuries ago as a point on the borders of all the Realms' rulers.

The party coalesced even as the rulers of the other eight Realms arrived. They had all used their own science or magic to arrive, of course; Targitzan, the ruler of Mayahem Temple, was a god and therefore a magical creature himself, as was Old King Coal, the ruler of Glitter Gulch Mountain and the rich mines underneath. Mr. Patch, ruler of Witchyworld, was a possessed inflatable dinosaur and quite capable of making his way to the Hill. Lord Woo Fak Fak, the supreme ruler of Jolly Roger's Lagoon and the underlying sunken city of Atlantis, being a giant anglerfish, would suffocate in the open air and so had sent an emissary, a dog-sized Gecko named Clyde. Terry of Terrydactyland had flown in, while Weldar, ruler of Grunty Industries and canny enough to know when to push for products like the GruntyHead football, had used matter-transference tech to arrive. Chilli Willi and Chilly Billy, the two pizza-loving dragon brothers ruling over Hailfire Peaks, had teleported in while the Queen Zubba in Cloud Cuckooland, not being able to fly or move around herself, had sent a Zubba named Zzifinor to the Council. And with Jingaling, of course, was Targitzan's delegation, Officer Ungopaz and Egliztorb, who joined Targitzan as soon as he appeared, and Banjo, Kazooie, Bottles, Jamjars, Mumbo and Humba.

Banjo and Kazooie had fought and defeated each Realm's ruler except for the Zubba queen; in Cloud Cuckooland they fought a robot that had fooled them into thinking it was Mumbo. They were somewhat nervous about being so close to the various rulers; bar Old King Coal, who they were on good terms with, and the Zubba Queen, everyone had a grudge against them. No-one liked a bearer of bad news, either. But this was a Council and all grievances are shelved until the Council comes to a decision.

"If this Council is about your kickball again, mortal, you will risk losing my divine favour", said Targitzan. Jingaling was not above making an excuse to call a Council and then turning it into a match planning session.

"This is a Council of great importance", snapped King Jingaling, "as Banjo, Kazooie, Bottles, Jamjars, Mumbo and Humba will explain. What we decide here today could alter the course of history. Banjo, Kazooie, tell them the bad news."

Gurkrist Hill fell silent. Then Kazooie spoke.

"We were heading up to Cauldron Keep as we do every Sunday. We have a kick-around with Grunty's head up there, in commemoration of her second defeat."

"So we entered the dome", continued Banjo, "and found her sack on the floor. Grunty's head", he finished, "has been stolen!"

Suddenly everyone started talking at once. No-one wanted Grunty's whereabouts unknown, and everyone was on the brink of panic. Jingaling had to send several bursts of golden energy up into the air, where they exploded with a loud BANG, to quieten everyone down. (This is the Council equivalent of hitting a mallet on a desk and shouting 'Order'.)

"They came to me straight away, of course", said the Jinjo King, as though nothing had happened, "and my first reaction was to call a Council. We must discuss in detail our plans from here on. I am sure that none of us want Gruntilda running about loose again, not after the damage she did last time. The Grey Jinjo family has only just been resurrected after two years of death thanks to Mumbo and Humba here..."

That made the rulers sit up and take notice; word had filtered through to them about the Pool, of course - Weldar had even watched the spell in action! - and to see those who had cast it in the flesh was quite extraordinary. None of the rulers had thought there was any long-term hope for the Jinjos; Jinjos are only fertile during the youngest phase in their life, the Grey phase. Then they mature to Black jinjos, all the way to the White Jinjo, the Sage of Order, and eventually they grow to be King. The White family must always number one, the Grey must always number ten. When a King dies the White Jinjo becomes the next King, growing to immense proportions during a spell which all lower families join in casting, and then the families elect members to be raised to the higher families, starting with a Jinjo raised to the White and ending with a Jinjo raised to the Black. Once the raising has been done the Grey family will produce a child Jinjo to fill the gap. Each Jinjo family has its own special shade of the Shadow magic to use, as seen when they cleansed Spiral Mountain.

"...and poor Tooty has been in stasis for twice as long, four years!", continued Jingaling. "She was freed only a few weeks ago, so Gruntilda's evil outlives her activity by a long mark. With this in mind, I suggest that we search for her head immediately. I will double my guard in the Quagmire, none of whom will be of the guard active this past week. I will question the guard later. Weldar, the Industries open into the Quagmire. Could you bolster my forces to be doubly sure?"

"I could spare a few Guvnors, maybe a Tintop or two", said Weldar. "I will be keeping to body of my forces in the Industries to search for Grunty's head, however."

"Mortal", intoned Targitzan, "my Moggies will search Mayaham Temple from top to bottom. If Grunty's head is there, it will be found. I will even erect a Sput Sput or two in Wooded Hollow, and station some of my forces there. This I do declare is my divine judgement."

"I'll get the Billy Bobs looking through Glitter Gulch", said Old King Coal, "and I'll get Flint to mind Chuffy for me while I direct the search. I should be able to spare a couple for the Plateau." Flint was Old King Coal's son, and heir of Glitter Gultch Mine.

"I will personally stand guard over Witchyworld atop the Big Top", said Mr. Patch,"and my Jippo Jims will scour all facilities for Gruntilda. I will also station troops in Pine Grove."

"As Lord Woo Fak Fak's emisarry", said Clyde,"I will strongly advise Lord Fak to alert all Keelhauls and Puftups, all Blubbals and Inkys of the situation. He will also be strongly advised to place a heavy guard of Keelhauls on all land areas, and set patrols through the Cliff Top."

The gecko faded into nothing. A moment later, he faded back, dripping wet.

"Lord Fak will do this."

"I myself will get all Bargasaurases, Soarasours, Unga Bungas, Oogle Boogles and Rocknuts to keep a close eye out for her in Terrydactyland", said Terry. "I will place a few of my troops in the Wasteland area, of course, and Chompasaur and Stomponadon will be informed of this crisis. If Grunty is in my realm", he said, eyes darkening, "then she will not leave intact".

"I and my brother will ensure that all Hothands, Hotheads, Gobgoyles, Biggafoots and S'Hards are scouring both sides of Hailfire Peaks", said Chilli Billi.

"We will also post a modest guard in the Cliff Top area", added Chilly Willy.

That accounted for everyone bar the Cloud Cuckoolanders. Everyone turned to Zzifinor.

"I will advizzze the Queen to fill Cloud Cuckooland wizzz every zzzoldier bee in our hive. We will alzzzo add a forzzze to the Wasteland. We may be able to negozzziate with the Flatzzzozzz; it wazzz Gruntilda who turned them flat. Onzzze they were Fatzzzozzz."

"When this is all over", said Jingaling, "our Full Circle will reverse that spell, as should be done. For now, however, we must prepare for the dreadful possibility that Gruntilda is free and in power. Therefore, we will place magical traps in Spiral Mountain, Jinjo Village, Wooded Hollow, Pine Grove, the Cliff Top, the Wasteland and more on top of those already in the Quagmire. Those ought to slow her down if she does turn up. Very well, I close this Council. We will return here in two day's time, on Tuesday afternoon."

_Meanwhile, in Cauldron Keep's Witches' Study..._

Gruntilda let out a screech of fury as she viewed the scene in her cauldron. She had known that the Jinjo King would lead the Council - the Jinjos had so much political weight it could hardly be any other way - and she had known that by Sunday they would find her gone. It forewarned them, however. She clutched her statue tightly in her fist. It was a beautiful statue, a perfect figurine of herself with bejeweled green eyes. It would seem beautiful, anyway, and Gruntilda would, when she unleashed her fury upon the pathetic forces arrayed against her. They would meet again, then, next Tuesday afternoon. She had to crush the temptation to turn up on the day and slaughter them all; they would have uses alive, some of them. She had not expected them to be so efficient, she had expected their contempt of her to cloud their thinking, she had expected them to forget how dangerous she was over these last two years and two humiliating defeats, oh yes she had, she HAD! She let out another ear-splitting shriek. But she had to wait until Wednesday, she did, Wednesday when the HAG1 would be complete. If only that fool Klungo could work faster!

She had until Wednesday to practice how she would kill Banjo and Kazooie. Until Wednesday to think of ways to occupy those she allowed to live (for what good is it, being the most beautiful being alive, if none are there to know?).

Grimly she entered her training room. She could always use a bit of practice to further hone her skills. And it would take her mind off the wait.

/Trouble's brewing. But you know that. You can expect more over the next two days or so. Gruntilda's really quite horrible, isn't she? I decided not to go into detail about just how she would have slaughtered the Council; losing your lunch over the keyboard is none too pleasant. Oh, too late. Read and review, or may all eleven shades of Shadow forsake you. Yeah./


	11. Training

/Woah, this one's a biggie. I know I said a 'day or two'... I just didn't expect to run through so many versions, have so many ideas or, truth be told, have so much spare time on my hands. I'm not going to commit myself to a schedule of any sort for the next chapter, but you can expect it within the next few weeks. I'm developing quickly as a writer.

Now for the standard disclaimer. All characters and locations in this fic are the property of their respective owners; what has been done to Spiral Mountain is my work. Flamers and plagiarists will be be held in disgust by my cat, Smudge, and most likely torn to bits by my good freind Nintendo Nut1's dog Wolfie, if Wolfie finds out. So if you are a flamer/plagiarist, find another fic to flame/plagiarise. Enjoy/

Training

Once the Council had finished Banjo, Kazooie, Mumbo, Humba, Bottles and Jamjars had discussed what their next move should be. They all agreed that if there was any chance at all of Gruntilda Winkybunion regaining power, it would be a good idea for Banjo and Kazooie to take some time training. They had utterly transformed Spiral Mountain that Sunday; Mumbo and Humba were largely responsible for the construction of the facilities, due to their magical firepower, to the plans drawn up by Bottles and Jamjars although Banjo and Kazooie had played some small part in the effort. Kazooie had spoken to Captain Blubber, who had agreed to sell her the Saucer of Peril for one thousand, five hundred doubloons, so they could use the Saucer in their training. That was three quarters of her birdseed money, but the Captain had paid three thousand for the Saucer and could not afford a lower price.

The mountain had been changed immensely – Mumbo and Humba had cast a Growth spell on the area, enlarging it by many times. The Mountain now had a racetrack surrounding it; Banjo and Kazooie would race the clock each day as part of their training regime. Hoops and targets filled the air, used by Kazooie both solo and with Banjo to perfect and refine her skills in the air. The most devious mazes and puzzles Bottles and Jamjars could produce covered the majority of the ground; these really were as hard as Bottles and Jamjars could make them. As they told Banjo and Kazooie constantly, they could not afford to be easier on them than Grunty would be, and if they were harder on them than Grunty would be they would breeze through the real thing should Grunty ever regain power. While Banjo and Kazooie conceded the point, they still thought Bottles and Jamjars were taking things a little too far.

The area in front of their home was the only clear area left, though it was a big area, with the ground space of four football pitches. It was a circular area with an underground storage bay for the foes they trained against. Most of the time the entrances to it, placed around the circumference of the area, were concealed, covered with grass and effectively closed to the world. When they opened any enemies Banjo and Kazooie were to fight would stumble through and seek them out. This was the training ground for actual combat.

Banjo and Kazooie had spent the last of that Sunday training there against the waves of enemies Bottles and Jamjars were sending against them, to 'whip them into shape'. Their usual policy of working Banjo and Kazooie hard was used.

It was now a bright and sunny Monday morning, and having spoken to the press late last night, celebrating the successful launch of the training ground and enjoying a good night's sleep, Banjo and Kazooie felt on top of the world. Bottles and Jamjars were going to teach them a new move, too, so Banjo and Kazooie had quickly eaten breakfast and eagerly waited in the living room for them to arrive. They did not take long to call Banjo and Kazooie outside to learn the new move - the Breegull Auto-Aim.

"Kazooie's neck can swivel around", sang Jamjars,  
"Shifting at the slightest sound.  
Now aim by eye and feel alone,  
Hit the bull's-eye each time, yer foes will drop like stones!"

"The Breegull Auto-Aim allows Kazooie to lock on and shoot at will", said Bottles.  
"You effectively have a threat-seeking turret mounted on your back now, Banjo", he continued. "Don't get too comfortable, though. We've upped the training difficulty to take our new move into account."

"That's impossible!", screeched Kazooie.  
"Yesterday was tough enough! What're we supposed to do, take out an army?"

"Yes, fleagirl!", snapped Jamjars.

"You are under siege from Gruntilda Winkybunion's entire armed forces. You are to defend your position until I can burrow through to connect your evac point to the silo network – it's about time Spiral Mountain was hooked up anyway. This is the point where the silo will stand", said Jamjars, pointing to the centre of the combat ground, "you can stock up on eggs of all flavours during the battle, bar golden, of course", he continued, spawning egg nests in a wide circle around the evac point, "though there is only one point per egg type, giving you six points total. On one side of the evac point you can stock up on red and golden feathers; on the other is a flight pad and a set of split-up pads. We're not playing freestyle; I'll expect you to use those pads to split if you decide to. Kazooie, you have five minutes to lace the area with proximity eggs. I doubt Gruntilda would be half as generous. Then it's combat stations, people!"

Kazooie wasted no time. She immediately surrounded the area with proximity eggs, leaving only the area defined by the egg nests and a slim choke point - hopefully the ground troops, confined to the choke point on pain of explosive dismemberment, would be easier to deal with. Kazooie had to restock her proximity eggs halfway through and found that Jamjars had set the respawn rate at two minutes for the egg nests. She'd have to conserve her ammo, which would be made more difficult by the Breegull Auto-Aim. Crests raised to them, they could see the flaws in their moves and responded to them well, but did Bottles and Jamjars have to ram the lesson home so painfully?

"I like your tactics, Kazooie", said Jamjars, striding down the choke point.  
"Force them to fight on your terms on pain of pain, first rule of combat. Very clever. You've earned a three minute respawn time, you can cope with it."

Kazooie suppressed a groan; the second rule of combat was to present a brave face to the enemy. She'd just have to stretch their ammo that little bit further. At least this was only training...

"It will take thirty minutes for me to tunnel through from Jinjo Village. During this time you will be under siege, and you will learn the true meaning of the word, believe you me. You will learn to respond to threats while conserving ammo. You will learn to use the Claw Swipe more, Banjo. If you roll too much Kazooie can't use the Breegull Auto-Aim. Mumbo, Humba, teleport me out!"

He threw a communicator to Banjo as he faded away. It flickered in and out of existence a bit as it left the teleportation field, though it had anchored itself firmly in Spiral Mountain by the time it had reached Banjo's paw.

"All right, furball", came Jamjars' voice over the communicator, "I expect an easy installation topside. I'll keep you updated on my progress; if I run into any trouble down here you'll be forewarned. Over and out."

Of course, they couldn't use real Gruntlings or Gruntydactyls in their training. They would kill Banjo and Kazooie on sight, and in any case were not available in the numbers needed. No, Mumbo and Humba had constructed another Pool as part of the training complex, and spun special Gruntlings and Gruntydactyls out of raw matter - they had tried to explain the process, but had lost the others totally when they tried to tell them about morphic resonance, mental signature and pigmentation levels - and these ones would only attempt to knock them out. Painfully. Otherwise they were exactly the same as Grunty's own henchmen, although for some reason they couldn't get the skin quite right.

Banjo patted his pocket to make sure that Mr Snuggles was secure - Tooty had given him the venerable teddy-man to 'keep him safe'.

The Gruntlings and Gruntydactyls had been released from their holding area for a while now.

Kazooie's head suddenly whipped around, tracing exactly the path of their scouting Gruntydactyl. It wheeled around at once, long before it flew in range. Kazooie ran for the flight pad; an aerial scan would give a better idea of what they faced.

Her head juddered about from target to target so much during her climb that she almost blacked out! When her vision cleared she almost fell out of the air in shock. The horizon was packed solid with Gruntlings, and the sky was filled with enough 'dactyls to blot out the daylight. She aimed a Beak Buster for Banjo's backpack. She had a feeling they'd be better off together.

"It's bad, Banjo, really bad!", she said.  
"They're everywhere! We'll never hold out against these odds!"

"We've got something they'll never have, Kazooie", he replied, "each other. We've been through too much together for any amount of baddies to beat us, right?"

Kazooie gave a weak grin, slightly heartened.

"Come on, I'll guard the choke point, you deal with the 'dactyls. They'll never get past us!"

The fight was horrible. To start with the Gruntlings inched their way down the choke point, carefully keeping away from the proximity eggs, only to be met by Banjo's claws and teeth. The first Gruntling to reach them had its head severed in one swipe, the next fell to needle-sharp claws through the heart, the third to a vicious chop through the middle. Banjo could fight Gruntlings in his sleep; he dispatched the fiftieth (knocked into a proximity egg by the forty-ninth's severed head) before he broke a sweat.

Then a red rage descended on him and he succumbed to instinct. He let out a great cry and raised his forelegs above his head. The Gruntlings were unfazed, and one of them hit a foreleg before he regained his senses. Kazooie had to cover him to prevent it from getting any worse.

"Real cool, Banjo! Keep it together, you idiot!", she shrieked, but Banjo didn't waste time on words - he resumed his methodical slash, bite, swipe with a sheepish look and redoubled his efforts.

Kazooie's head was always in motion, shooting any Gruntydactyl that threatened to break the perimiter with a swift grenade egg... ice egg... fire egg...  
"I'm down to normal eggs, Banjo!"

"Keep firing", said Banjo, jabbing a claw through an errant Gruntling's eye with a pop, "prepare to Wonderwing on my mark. We'll have to plough through them!"

The Gruntlings were largely keeping to the choke point, but their numbers were so great that an occasional Gruntling stepped into a proximity egg. Kazooie's minefield was gradually wearing down, though it exacted a price in blood for every step.

"I'm out!", said Kazooie.

"MARK!", cried Banjo, quickly grabbing the egg nests.  
"Try to make it last!"

If asked at a later date what the battle was like, Banjo and Kazooie would always make light of it, passing it off as a minor training exercise. It was not. Soon Kazooie ran out of eggs again, and they had to split to deal with the mass of enemies. Fifteen minutes through Jamjars struck granite, and they lost ten minutes as he found a way around it and got back on course. Forty minutes after the siege began Jamjars requested security topside to install the silo unit.

"It's snowing 'dactyls out here and the proximity eggs are gone. We're falling back on your position, work fast, over!", yelled Banjo into his communicator.

They were fighting back-to-back as Jamjars surfaced. He replenished Kazooie's egg supply, then pulled the silo unit out of the ground. Kazooie surrounded them with a protective layer of proximity eggs, then started to blast the Gruntydactyls out of the sky with grenade eggs. They were almost there.

Jamjars had slotted the silo unit into the machinery just below the ground, and was checking the security of its mounting by attempting to pull it back and forth. Satisfied the hardware was properly mounted, Jamjars began programming the unit to accept only friendlies, excluding Gruntlings and Gruntydactyls, as well as Klungo and any other foes that Grunty might inflict on the Isle o' Hags. The intelligent recognition system was the pinnacle of military technology; it would take a mainframe supercomputer with thirty thousand parallel processing threads weeks to crack. And the system had a morphing property, inspired by how viruses fool the immune system - it reprogrammed itself in a different fashion from basic logic once a week to ensure it remained secure. This last property had been installed into the system shortly after Gruntilda's second defeat, and was a gift from a girl from another universe. He smiled as he tapped the keys, oblivious to the battle raging around him. Young Samus and her Choeso technology... There. That should do it.

"Okay, troops, fall back! FALL BACK! The unit is go!"

The last proximity eggs had gone, used up to cover Jamjars. Everyone rushed for the silo as the mass closed in. One of the Gruntlings unwisely tried to follow, and reached through the jaws of the silo at them. The silo closed to a sound of splintering bone, and the arms dropped to the floor in the interior.

It was over.

"I'm proud of how you handled those odds", said Jamjars, "me and Bottles gave Mumbo and Humba real troubles, asking them to pump out the Gruntlings like that."

He paused reflectively.

"You know, it says a lot for how powerful Mumbo and Humba have become that they are even capable of this. Alone, either of them would have troubles animating ten Gruntlings at once. Together..."

"...Millions", finished Banjo.

Jamjars laughed so hard he fell to the floor, rolling around wildly.

"Millions! Ahahaha, ohohoho hahahaha! Millions! Heheheh, no, Banjo, ahaha!"

With great effort, Jamjars suppressed his mirth. Shoulders quaking, he spoke in the strained voice of a mole desperately trying not to laugh.

"Not nearly one million, furball. There were only 150,000 of each type of foe. A million... I can appreciate they may have FELT like a million, but really..."

"Easy for you to laugh, wormbreath", interjected Kazooie, "you were nice and comfy underground while we were at the front line. If you'd been through that with us, you'd be laughing on the other side of your face!"

"I guess I would at that", replied Jamjars.  
"Anyway, let's debrief before we surface. Banjo, what did that training exercise teach you?

"To use my teeth and claws more when in battle. They are there to rend and tear... I'd forgotten how good it felt to do so. There is a vicious joy in biting and swiping. To let that joy rule me and mindlessly attack is to invite disaster..."

He raised a foreleg, showing a spectacular bruise.

"...so the wise course is not to, however tempting. Instead I must harness that joy, rule it, while remaining aware of my tactical situation."

"Important lessons, furball. Kazooie, what have you learned?"

"The Breegull Auto-Aim is a good move, as moves go. BUT, beetle-breath, having my head judder around like that is very disorientating. It's tempting to shoot everything in sight, which uses up my eggs at a stupidly fast rate. Being out of eggs is dangerous for a Breegull."

She raised her left-hand wing with a wince. Her plumage was ragged and the wing was broken. Jamjars sucked air through his teeth with a whistling sound, but didn't interrupt.

"Next time, I'm fighting in Dragon form. The other thing I learned is there are times when it pays to sacrifice my beautiful red and gold plumage for the protection scales give. Infinite fire eggs would have helped too. Jamjars, I need some medical attention here..."

"I'll radio Mumbo and Humba when we've surfaced. If all this turns out to be more than just a scare, an infected wing from our little training exercise could mean the difference between success and failure. Otherwise I might leave it for a day or two to ram the lesson home."

"I love you too, wormbreath!", snapped Kazooie, hurt.

"We can't afford any mistakes in the real thing, fleagirl," retorted Jamjars, "every chance me and Bottles get to ram a lesson home, we will!"  
"You got this far", he continued in a softer voice, "because you NEVER under-estimated Gruntilda. Whether it was jumping on coffins to get to Witchyworld's train station switch, helping Styracosauruses for a pittance, blasting Clinkers or hatching eggs, you jumped through hoops - literally in your case, Kazooie - to collect those 90 Jiggies last time. Similar persistence may well be required this time. So we'll be hard on you in our training exercises, because one slip-up and... BOOM! The whole Isle o' Hags goes under. Oh, don't shake your heads at me like that. You know as well as I do that even if King Jingaling were to convince all the Realm's rulers to unite their forces in one decisive stroke, they'd still be utterly decimated by what for you is merely a training exercise. I meant it when I said I was proud of you. Okay, we're ready to surface. There may be some media attention."

There was, in the form of ace reporter Jack Sprat. He was wearing a pinstripe suit and holding a clipboard to take notes. Technically he also had a face, but most of it was obscured behind a dazzling smile.

"Hello, Banjo, Kazooie - good grief, you must be training hard, look at the state of your wing - is there anything you'd like to tell the Daily Jiggy?

"We repeat our statement of last evening", said Banjo.  
"Gruntilda has not, as far as we know, regained power. On the off-chance that she eludes the search combing the whole island as we speak, myself and Kazooie here are training hard, to the point of personal injury" - he gestured to Kazooie's broken wing - "just in case Gruntilda proves to be particularly slippery. Jamjars here and his brother, Bottles, who played for the Moles in the kickball tournament last week, are busy creating new moves - even I can't tell you what they have in store - and Mumbo and Humba, our shaman friends, have become so powerful it is almost frightening. Jamjars, are you going to radio them this week? Kazooie's in pain here..."

Jamjars looked up from his communicator, irritated.

"I would if I could, furball", he said, "but my communicator's outta juice. I've been on the thing non-stop, getting updates on your progress from Bottles. Throw me yours and I'll radio them."

"Keep an eye out for them", Banjo told the reporter as he threw the communicator to Jamjars, "teleportation _sans_ warp pads is one of the first things they worked on together."

Jamjars used the communicator to call in Mumbo and Humba.

Jack Spat felt himself being gently but irresistibly pushed to one side by an expanding bubble of air. This first phase of the teleportation spell created a vacuum at the target location, explained Banjo, clearing the ground of obstacles so that the travellers were able to teleport safely without having to worry about teleporting inside a wall or boulder. The second phase was the actual teleportation. FLASH! And Bottles, Mumbo, Humba and Tooty were standing there. There was a small thunderclap as the air rushed back in. They all winced; it stung.

"BANJO! KAZOOIE!", shouted Tooty excitedly.  
"You did it! You did it! 300,000 of them, and you did it! I knew Mr. Cuddles would keep you safe!"

"I'm sorry, did she really just say 300,000?", asked the reporter.

"It was nothing", replied Banjo modestly.

"Three. Hundred. Thousand." He seemed to be having trouble grasping the concept.

"YES, reporter boy. What else could break my wing?", cried Kazooie.

"Kazooie!", admonished Banjo.

"Uh, do you mind if I get a shot of you before you're healed? For the front page?"

"Get on with it then. Kazooie's hurt!", snapped Banjo. He almost never snapped at anyone, but Kazooie - who he'd been through so much with - was in pain. That put him on edge.

"Yes, this should only take a moment", said Jack Sprat, producing a camera from an inside pocket, "if you'd pose for the camera, please? Could you spread that hurt wing a bit? Lovely."

He took the picture and started to run through headlines.

"'Unstoppable Duo defeat 300,000 strong army'... ''It was nothing' says bear'... No-one's had a scoop like this since you blew the HAG1 to bits! I'm made! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Do we get a Jiggy?", asked Kazooie.

"You've already got them all. I know! You can have my spare camera! It's a good make!"

"Thank you. We'll take good care of it", said Banjo, pocketing it. Mumbo and Humba had healed them during the exchange, and Kazooie was stretching her healed wing, using the Leg Spring and Glide moves to make sure all was in order. Satisfied, she landed and gave a nod of acknowledgement to Mumbo and Humba.

They all strolled to Bottle's house to celebrate the successful test of the new move. Banjo and Kazooiehad earned the chance to rest and party before they returned to their training again.

/I keep seeing Gruntlings and cameras dancing behind my eyelids... woah, that took too many sittings to type! There was a cameo reference in there. That's a bit of foreshadowing to a future fic, to keep you guessing.

I will now announce a small competition. Summarise, in two words, what Banjo and Kazooie did wrong/gave into this chapter. The prize is my original, handwritten version of this chapter, which theoretically could one day be worth a great deal of money to the right collector. You are allowed ONE guess as part of your review for this chapter; all future guesses must be sent to my Email address, accessible through my profile (click my penname) under the subject 'Summary Guess'. Good luck. You'll need it - there is more than one right answer, and I will only accept the one I'm _thinking_ of.

Just scanned through to correct some errors I didn't notice, and I realised I'd forgotten something.

You've read it. Now review it. Or you'll never see my handwriting.../


End file.
